A/N: Hey, just keeping myself busy over the summer since I lost my job so I started writing this. That and I really miss the T.V. Show, particularly the characters. P.s. My first fanfic.
Edit A/N: It was brought to my attention last night by a reader that my "you're"s were screwed up. I want to be sure you know this is from a very faulty auto correct used in my word processor on a laptop so old that I type faster than it can accept input. I often find myself back tracking to fix screw ups because of these things. My own partner in crime, who is far better with computers than I, will work to fix the auto correct but please bear with me till this issue is fixed. I too hate the misuse of the English language. I'd also like to say thank you for the formatting information that I have wondered about for so long. I will work diligently to keep an eye on these problems that have been brought to light and thank you all again for your patients. Now on with the story.
Castle woke up to light streaming in through his bedroom curtains. Because of this he kept his eyes shut. What a dream he had last night. It must have been his subconscious playing evil tricks on him again. This wouldn't be the first time he had a intimate dream about her. She was always in his dreams, and his nightmares. But this one blew his mind. Usually his dreams were just plain and simple naughty fantasies. He would create characters for him and her to play in his mind. It would make it easier to believe that she was going along with it. They weren't themselves after all. A short of sexual mental role play. The case with the journal that once belonging to the private investigator only encouraged this behavior of his subconscious more. But this dream was different. She had confessed to him, apologized for hurting him, given him more than he could have ever imagined. It seemed so possible, so real. The wound of their "break up" from a few days earlier was still fresh. He came to the conclusion this dream must have been a product of it still oozing. That now put behind him, it was morning, a fresh day, time to start new.
He went to sit up in bed, stretch and rub his face as he usually would but suddenly, as he became more awake, he realized there was pressure against his chest. Not heavy or bothersome. Not at all. In fact it felt warm, and...soft? Castles eyes shot wide open. Was it a dream? Could you even fall asleep within a dream only to wake up still in a dream and not know it because of this fact? No that's not possible. That was inception. His mind would not betray him that badly. There was only one word to describe this. Miracle. There, cuddled up in his bed, against his chest, naked, was the last person he ever expected to see. Kate Beckett.
Fear shot through him and he froze stiff. As if this were all some short of mirage and if he moved it would brake or turn to sand and slip through his fingers. As he lay there frozen in complete silence the realization that last night had actually happened sunk in. She had come to him, looking utterly defeated and hopeless but after everything, he had held back. He had to after what she did to him. But in that moment he held back, she looked up at him so desperate and honest. He saw the same need, the same burning passion for him that had burned in his eyes for her for years and he caved.
But what happened now? His mind began to race. What happens when she wakes up? What if she thinks she made a mistake and turned up here desperate and hurt. What if she wakes up, freaks out and says she wasn't thinking straight and walks out his door, never to be seen again? Or worse, what if she tried to deny or ignore that it had ever happened just like all the previous incidents. He couldn't handle that. It would kill him. He may have been married twice and, though he wouldn't admit it, truly loved his former wives, but never in all his life, as a teenager with raging emotions or experienced adult, had he felt this way about another woman before.
No. He couldn't think that way. He had to focus on the hopeful. He remembered more of the night. The words she had said. No. She wouldn't walk out on him. She couldn't. It was so tender, so honest, so passionate. Could she really feel the same way about him? It was all still too hard to believe. He smiled at the memory of last night and decided to let the worries wait. For now, Kate Beckett was naked in his bed and he was going to enjoy that while he could.
He looked at her without a thousand thoughts running through his head for the first time since he opened his eyes to find her. She looked so peaceful and strangely, but much to Castles delight, content. A light smile played upon her soft pink lips and her hair fell, a curly brunette mess, over her forehead, against his chest and down her back. Castle mentally took a picture to remember her this way forever. He could feel her breath soft against his chest as she slept soundly. If one could stop time, ever in existence, he begged they gave him now.
The sheets had seemed to have gotten tangled down around their waists through the night giving him a fantastic view of her lower back. He let his eyes glide down her body drinking her in not knowing when this would end, and praying it never would. His hand seemed to have found it's natural place of rest in the middle of her back and looking down on them like that, it all just felt so right. Castles hand betray him as he felt this need to just touch her, stroke her. The mental fight of realizing this was real gave way to the physical need to make sure it was. He reached up and stroked the hair that hung over her face and tucked it behind her ear. Then slowly, gently, he ran his fingers through her hair and down her back. The need to re-experience last night over again grew in him. He wanted to explore more. No, if she woke it was over. Too late. He allowed his hand to cup her cheek and brush it gently with his thumb and then it happened. A quick intake of air as she returned to the conscious. She was awake. Castle's childish instincts kicked in and he did the first thing that came to mind. Pretend he was still asleep. He lay his head back quickly and tried to relax his body under her. But as he reminded himself who's body he was laying under, he found this to be a difficult task. You're asleep. You're asleep. You're asleep. He whispered mantras to himself inside his head. Fear boiling up inside him at what could possibly come next.
A/N: So like I said, I'm new to this writing thing though I've been reading forever. So please don't be mean. However, I love good constructive criticism. Key word constructive! If you like what you're reading then please review. It would definitely make me want to write more.